One of Us
by ShadowSilverWolves
Summary: Something is wrong with Antonio. Gilbert and Francis don't ever let anybody mess with one of their clique. That's their bond: strong and unflinching in loyalty. Somebody is about to get hurt in a very un-awesome way. Oneshot. (Summary does NOT suck.)


**I do not own Hetalia.**

~.~.~.~.

They were back. Antonio took a deep breath and straightened his black waiter's apron nervously, glancing around to see if one of the other employees would come take their table. He took a step back into the kitchen, hoping and praying that they would not see him. If only Alfred had been on shift today, things would have been much smoother. He would even be happy to see Elizabeth, no matter how fierce she was at times.

But as the seconds dragged on and the other waiters in the room kept busy with their own customers, adorned in apparel identical to his white dress shirt, bowtie, charcoal grey waiter's vest, and black apron, looking all together quite handsome, Antonio realized with a stab of dread that he was going to be the one to deal with the table of ruffians.

There were ten of them all together, but they entered the Italian restaurant only four or five at a time, and they never seemed to come for the food. Perhaps he was exaggerating when he thought about it, but if Antonio were to judge, he would say that the only reason they ever came to the little café on the corner that was run by a pair of brothers, was so that they could take a good bit of fun out of torturing him to death.

Making his job of being a pleasant and helpful waiter as difficult as was physically possible was their life goal. Deciding on the most complicated of orders and complaining to him about how long it took was one of their favorite things to do. Italian food was not exactly something you could whip up in a matter of seconds, like the fast food place across the road. It took a good amount of time and an equal amount of love to create the finest of Italian cuisines, as Feliciano would always say. Lovino, the older of the twins, did not say that line as often, but Antonio knew that he believed it, if his delicious dishes were anything to go by.

But love was a lost cause on these people that Antonio was slowly approaching. His green eyes darted this way and that as he fingered his collar with worry. His steps were slow and uncertain as he hoped that someone else would come take this table. Running a hand through his messy brown locks, he let out a shaky, frustrated sigh. If the group was not complaining about how long it took for their food to get there, they would fuss when it did arrive, insisting that their order was incorrect. Eventually they would walk out without paying, and Antonio could not decide which was worse: losing a large amount of money due to them leaving behind their expensive dishes and not having to deal with them for the rest of the day, or having them stay to eat their meal and listen to their harsh, vulgar comments that they would whisper under their breath, just loud enough for him and only him to hear.

Never before had they acted this way around the other employees, and Antonio could not exactly say he blamed them. Most of the waiters did their job quickly, working slow enough to keep accurate, but fast enough to not have to hold a conversation. And the two employees who did stick out were Alfred, a loud but friendly man who could keep a conversation going with just about anyone, and Elizabeta, the only waitress in the restaurant who was also the most fierce employee in the building. Messing with her meant a frying pan to the face, and bothering Alfred was incredibly difficult since he barely paid attention to what you were saying anyway. Both of those two could handle themselves easily, quite unlike Antonio. He considered himself a rather peaceful, kind soul, just looking to help out.

Trembling with worry, Antonio at last approached the table. Shaking hands found his notepad and pencil and somehow flipped the pages open, as he stood before the group.

"W-welcome to Café Vargas. W-what can I get you today?" Antonio said in a nervous tone, his green eyes wavering as he likes over the smug faces that smirked back at him.

"W-well," one boy said, mimicking his shaky stutter, "w-we would l-like a cuter waitress p-p-please."

Antonio felt the tips of his ears turn red with indigence as he did his very best to keep his face calm. Feli always told him to keep a smile on, no matter how difficult the customers were being. He really was trying, but the comments did not stop. It took him repeating himself several more times before the group began to very loudly contemplate what they should eat.

If Alfred had been here, this would not have been a problem. The hero complex that the American had seemed to come with a stress radar that sensed when someone was in trouble. Coming to Antonio's aid was on his list of things a hero was supposed to do. Distracting the group of punks in a variety of different ways, from challenging them in a staring match to quizzing them on famous Italian chefs, was the man's specialty, and it always made Antonio smile whenever the blonde began to work his magic. Elizabeta just threatened to throw them out if they did not behave and the matter was settled.

But today, neither the fierce Hungarian or the talkative American were present, leaving Antonio with the problem of trying to shove his hurt feelings and injured pride to the back of his mind and take their order.

Scribbling down a meal and then crossing it out as they suddenly decided on another was frustrating Antonio to no end and he felt as though he would fling his notepad across the room and slam his pencil on the ground, after of which he would announce to the world that he was quitting. As much as he thought that would feel good, he refused to give these bullies an inch of satisfaction. Besides, he liked working in this restaurant along side the Italian brothers. Lovino might be a bit rude at times, and Feliciano sometimes did not know when to stop spinning in circles, but he knew that the two loved their job, their family restaurant, and him. Leaving would cause more problems then it would solve.

Another frustrated sigh escaped from his lips, no matter how hard he tried to keep it in, when everyone at the table at last agreed on their orders. The five most expensive items on the menu.

"Thank you, I shall return with your meals shortly," Antonio said in a clipped voice, turning around and walking quickly away from the table.

"Make it quick, Pedro! We haven't got all day!" Laughter immediately followed this statement and Antonio wiped his eyes, willing his angry tears away.

When he gave the orders to Lovino, the dark-haired Italian squinted at the man, searching his eyes for something.

"Everything all right, Antonio?"

Antonio had never informed the brothers of his problematic customers, for reasons he himself did not understand. With a quick shake of his head, he pulled the remains of his feelings together and forced them into a smile that he plastered onto his face for Lovino's benefit.

"I'm fine, amigo! Don't worry!"

The Italian did not look particularly convinced, but said nothing on the matter and went back to the task at hand of washing and slicing tomatoes.

When the five dishes were completed, Antonio gathered them all together on a tray and began making his way out the door of the kitchen, back to the dining area. As he passed Lovino once more, he opened his mouth wide. With an annoyed grunt, Lovino shoved a large slice of tomato into the awaiting Spaniard's mouth. Antonio sent him a wink before making his was out the door, which only received another grunt from the Italian accompanied by a 'Move it along'.

As Antonio approached the table, swallowing the last of his red fruit, he reaffirmed himself in his goal of keeping the day happy. He liked happy days.

"Here you are! Your meals! Do enjoy!" he announced with a smile, sliding the trays on the table. He was ignoring the boys' faces, for fear of losing his nerve, and missed the quick look that passed between them all.

One boy slid his complimentary glass of orange juice in the way of Antonio and the large black tray knocked the glass over, spilling juice all over one of them.

"Look what you did, you klutz!" he accused.

Antonio jumped back in surprise. "Oh, I am so sorry!" he exclaimed. Pulling out the towel that he always kept in his pocket, he moved forward to try and help clean up the spill. He had, of course, seen the hand that pushed the glass forward, but decided not to try and defend himself. Unfortunately, the boy continued shouting abuse at the poor Spaniard, drawing attention to the little group. Everyone in the restaurant now had their eyes on the them, seeing the upset customer and the stuttering waiter.

Antonio was only trying to help, but the boy would have none of that.

"Keep your hands off of me, you bastard!" he hissed when Antonio attempted to dry him off.

Antonio tried to will the angry tears that were forming in his eyes away, but they were not listening. They fell from his emerald irises and trickled down his cheeks at the unfairness of the situation. He looked at the mess around him and let out a choked sob. With a fist over his eyes to hide his face from those in the room, he turned around and ran, heading for the back door. He passed Lovino on the way out. The Italian's brown eyes were wide as he leaned out the door of the kitchen.

"Antonio! Where are you going?"

But the brunette was not listening as he raced out the back door to get away from it all. Away from the accusing glares and curious gazes, all of whom saw him at his weakest moments. He wanted to disappear off of the face of the earth. He did not even know where he was going as he ran down the back alleys of the streets, the only thing he knew was that he could not go back to Café Vargas again. Not with everyone there seeing him so pathetic.

He was unaware of how much time had passed, but his legs were tired and his eyes had run out of tears. Leaning up against a building, he wiped his face. Halting in his run and wallowing in self-pity for a while seemed like a good idea. He stayed like that for a time, wondering how he was going to pay his bills if he quit his job at the café. He would have to get another job, but there was nothing quite like working in the little restaurant along side Lovino and Feliciano. He would miss those two. Why could not the world be so kind to him? What had he ever done to deserve such treatment?

Voices met his ears, interrupting his oh-woe-is-me mindset. Two voices to be exact. He knew who those voices belonged to and they made his heart soar. It was so easy to distinguish these voices from everyone else. He began making his way toward the sounds. A soft word or a light laugh could be heard every once in a while, and Antonio followed them carefully, recognizing the slight French accent and over-usage of the word 'awesome'.

Turning the corner, Antonio could now see his two best friends standing near a wall and decorating the broken brick with colors and lines to leave their mark. Francis, blonde haired and blue-eyed, stood with most of his weight on one leg, one arm crossed over his side and the other hand up to his face, tapping a finger to his chin. Gilbert, a rather tall and loud albino, was placing the finishing stroke on the ending letter of an acronym, laughing heartily at something the Frenchman at his side had said.

Their differences were obvious. Francis was more of a stylish person than Gilbert, dressed in a dark purple dress shirt and black jeans. A pair of casual brown shoes accompanied the outfit, finishing it off and giving the entire look a relaxed but respected style. Gilbert represented the casual-but-cool fashion, sporting skinny jeans, large tennis shoes, a blue t-shirt and a dark green hoodie. They opposed and complimented each other, with Antonio fitting right in the middle, making them a very tightly knit group known as the Bad Touch Trio, which was the title the two were painting on the wall before them.

Realizing that someone was watching them, Francis and Gilbert turned around at the same time and saw a rather disheveled Antonio with red, swollen eyes and a defeated look. The compassion and worry that immediately flooded into their eyes for their friend caused everything that had just happened to the brunette come crashing back down on him, full force. The valves in his eyes seemed to open completely and the tears came back like twin rivers flooding down his face and he ran to his friends.

Gilbert caught him in his arms and Antonio sobbed into his chest as the albino held him close. Francis had dropped his brush and was running his hand through the Spaniard's messy brown hair, whispering softly to him that everything was okay. The love and kindness he was receiving from these two, though it warmed his heart, made him wonder all over again why he received such harsh treatment from others who he had only been kind to. Gilbert held him steadily, providing a solid place of comfort. Francis's gentle words soothed his mind and eased his dampened spirit, letting him know that life was still worth living.

When his sobs had subsided, leaving him with only the occasional hiccup, Antonio pulled away from Gilbert, not completely, though, still keeping his arms wrapped around the German, but enough to allow him to look up at the man's face and offer a look of gratitude. The look was returned with a wink and a spark of amusement in those red-purple eyes. A glance over at Francis communicated the same look, but Francis replied a bit differently, choosing insteadd to place a soft kiss on Antonio's forehead to assure him that everything was still all right.

"Are you okay now, Antonio?" he asked after pulling away.

Antonio responded with a slight nod, giving a small sniff and wiping his eyes.

"Now, what the devil has you so upset, Toni?" Gilbert asked, still holding his friend close.

In a rush, Antonio explained everything that had happened over the past two months, which is how long the troubling group had been coming to the little café. He told them how they made their orders difficult, sometimes did not pay, and the horrid little comments they slipped in every once in a while. The entire situation that had happened that day was just the last straw for him.

As he spoke, the hostile look in his friends' eyes was growing considerably as they thought of someone hurting their friend so. Antonio was the kindest one in their group, and neither of them would tolerate someone trampling all over him. But they pushed their anger to the back of their minds and focused primarily on their hurting friend.

"Idiot," Gilbert said affectionately. "Why didn't you tell us before? We could have taken care of it, very awesomely, I might add."

"I don't know," Antonio admitted. "I guess I did not want to bother you."

"Silly Toni!" France cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of the other's face. "You will never be a bother."

Gilbert nodded his agreement. "Yeah. You're one of us. That makes you at least twenty percent more awesome than the rest of the population and one hundred percent more important."

France gave a small chuckle. "Well said. Now why don't you call Alfred and have him take you home. We'll clear things up with the Vargas brothers. Okay?"

Antonio sniffed one last time before nodding his consent. Even with Gilbert and Francis's care, he still could not go back to the café today. He could wait another day or so before he returned to work.

When Alfred arrived in his truck, he climbed out and immediately put his arms around Antonio as Gilbert let him go. Though he usually could not read the atmosphere very well, his stress radar had gone off when he exited the vehicle, and Antonio's red face and tired appearance pinpointed him as the one in distress. As he led the exhausted man to his truck, he cast a glance over his shoulder, seeing Francis's determined look and Gilbert's excited smirk. They both gave him a slight nod and he nodded in return.

He wished he could join them, but what they needed to do was between the three of them. His job was to keep Antonio company. With one arm around the Spaniard's shoulders, Alfred walked him to the truck.

"Hey, dude! Why don't we swing over to my place and I show you some of my sweet new video games!"

Antonio smiled. "I'd like that."

~.~.~.~.

Since starting a row in the restaurant would be bad business for Feliciano and Lovino, the remaining two members of the Bad Touch Trio told the brothers that Antonio was not feeling well but should be back to work by tomorrow or the day after. Lovino only nodded, guessing there was more to the story but refraining from saying anything, but Feliciano clapped his hands together and proclaimed how relieved he was that Antonio was not dreadfully sick and had not decided to sue the restaurant for food poisoning and the orange juice had been cleaned up quickly and did they want any pasta before they left, to-go, and free of charge.

After politely declining the offer, the two left the restaurant, checking quickly to see that the group Antonio had mentioned were nearly finished eating, and stood near a telephone pole, east of the building. Thankfully for them and unfortunately for the clan of boys they were about to encounter, the way the group took to leave led them directly by Gilbert and Francis.

"There they are, Francis!" Gilbert announced loudly to his friend. Naturally, the boys looked their way with inquisitive looks. Francis eyed the group before replying to the albino's obvious observation.

"Ah, yes. There they are, indeed!"

"You two talkin' 'bout us?" one of the group demanded, stepping towards them in what would have been easily seen as a threatening gesture to anyone else, but went unheeded by the Frenchman and Prussian.

Francis glanced at the group again and let a surprised expression come over his face as if he had only just noticed they were standing there.

"Oh, Gil! They appear to have seen us!"

"Good! The Awesome Me deserves to be seen!" Gilbert gave the group a wolfish grin and licked his lips as he leaned against the telephone pole. Francis ran a hand through his blonde hair and held that pose, gazing sideways at their target with a lazy smile.

"Whaddya want? Because if its a beatin', we'd gladly oblige!" another of the group told them.

Francis seemed to consider that thought before shrugging. "You wouldn't have seen a Spanish lad today, have you? About so tall with brown hair and green eyes. I believe he works in there." Francis pointed at the café they had just left.

Suspicion rose in the eyes of the assumed leader of the clan. "Who wants to know?" he asked in a low growl.

"We do," Gilbert said coldly. The playful look in his eyes was gone as the purple irises took on a more reddish hue. He stood up straight, pushing away from the pole and took a few steps forward. There was an aura of darkness surrounding him that many would do well to take note of and keep far away from.

"Indeed, we do." Francis stood beside the albino. Pulling a length of blue ribbon from his pocket, the Frenchman began tying his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Brushing a few of the shorter strands that fell out of the gather out of his face, Francis turned hard blue eyes onto the group before him, feeding his anger at them to the world through one look. And a vicious look it was.

As the two stood side by side, equal amounts of rage in their faces and a flaming monster of darkness seeming to billow behind them, the group before them became significantly frightened. Matching sadistic smiles formed on the faces of Gilbert and Francis that caused a shiver to run down the spine of their victims. Gone were the kind souls who had comforted their friend in his time of need. They had been replaced by these bloodthirsty vengeance-filled duo who looked as though they could challenge the devil.

"This is what happens when you mess..." Francis started toward the group, Gilbert at his side.

The last thing any of the five could remember was a voice with a slight German accent finishing the statement in a deep, sickening tone.

"...with one of us!"

~.~.~.~.

**Author's Note**

**I love the Bad Touch Trio! They are awesome! I know I should be working on Sunshine and Airplanes, but this idea got stuck in my head! I'll update that other one next week. Hope ya liked it!**

**Read and review, please!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


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